


You're Not the Only One There Is (Because I'm No Good)

by ViolentAddict



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Amy Winehouse inspires me, Cheating, Cherik - Freeform, Coffee Shop, Cute, First Meeting, Infidelity, Lana Del Rey is also a big inspiration, Love, M/M, charles/erik - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentAddict/pseuds/ViolentAddict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...it becomes hard to quit him. He finds himself making excuses for his actions, that he’s only doing it because Hank ignores him, that it’s Hank’s fault for not being there, he wants to resent Hank for driving him into the arms of another man."</p><p>The fic where Charles and Erik find each other while Charles is married to Hank, and Charles realizes that maybe he's with the wrong man after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not the Only One There Is (Because I'm No Good)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of Coeur de Pirate's cover of You Know I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse and Lana Del Rey's Without You.  
> I love Cherik and I'm really happy to be a part of this fandom.  
> To me, this could have more angst but I still feel like I did it justice.  
> Please enjoy.

He meets him on a quite un extraordinary day in the middle of the unforgiving cold of October. The leaves have changed into gorgeous hues of auburn and coral, a few fall from the trees like angels cast out of heaven and swirl around him as he walks.

 

          There’s a coffee shop that he passes on his way to work, one that Hank raves about. Apparently, they make these cookies with peanut butter that he can’t resist.

 

          To Charles, hundreds of bakeries and pastry shops could make those same cookies, heck, he could even make them himself. But Hank _swears_ by this place. It all seems a little ridiculous and very self-indulgent but far be it from Charles to put Hank down when he’s like this.

 

 It makes Charles a little happy to see his husband so open and unashamed to babble about things that give him pleasure. Usually, Hank is so closed off from him and busy working on some new experiment in the lab that they never really get the chance to talk.

 

          But that doesn’t make Charles love him any less. Sure he wishes Hank would be more intimate, but Hank was never the type to be all lovey-dovey and he knew that long before they married.

 

          So, he decides to treat Hank. Charles had had a pretty mundane day at work and the stupid chill in the air wasn’t helping to brighten his dull mood at all. But if he bought Hank a box of those cookies he liked so much and a warm cappuccino for himself (Hank only took his coffee black and scoffed whenever he saw Charles drinking the latest concoction with the funny name that would get him jumped in prison), then it would all be worth it to see that smile on Hank’s face and quite possibly he’d be able to tear him away from his work for a little while so they could chat or do some less… innocent things.

 

          The coffee shop isn’t _that_ different from other coffee shops, at least not to Charles. It does have that air of trying to be too cutesy but comes off as trying too hard and missing its mark entirely. But really with a name like Cup of Delight, who could expect anything else? It makes Charles feel quite cynical but he does perk up at the smell of fresh baked pastries and hot coffee brewing, the boring day at work already forgotten. 

 

          The line is blessedly short, there’s just a few people, so Charles tries to read the price board and finds that the fare isn’t as expensive as he originally thought. But then the man in front of him, some tall guy wearing an alizarin turtle neck, moves and totally obstructs his view.

 

          Charles, ever the polite chap, decides that this is completely unacceptable and touches Mr. Turtleneck’s shoulder to kindly ask him to step to the right, because no matter how much he shifts he can’t see past Mr. Turtleneck nor can he grow one foot in a few seconds.

 

          Mr. Turtleneck naturally turns around to see who has interrupted his perusing and Charles straightens, in case this guy doesn’t like to be touched and feels like expressing so, but when their eyes meet, sky blue with steel grey, time seems to stop.

 

          Charles forgets momentarily what he’s about to say or why he touched Mr. Turtleneck in the first place and a few seconds tick by but it’s okay because Mr. Turtleneck doesn’t speak for awhile either.

 

          Finally, though, Mr. Turtleneck is the one to break the silence because Charles can’t really trust his mouth right now.  “I’m sorry, is something the matter?” _Shit,_ Charles thinks, _what accent even is that and his voice? It’s unbelievable._

          “Um, yes,” Dammit, he’s a grown man not a bumbling teenager. “You’re blocking me, if you could just move to the side.”

 

          “Of course.” Mr. Turtleneck acquiesces but Charles can’t seem to focus on the price board anymore. His gaze shifts nervously to the Adonis in front of him.

 

          Mr. Turtleneck glances behind him and his gaze lingers on Charles longer than is customary before turning around again and stepping forward in the line.

 

          Something awakens inside Charles; something that he thought had quieted long ago. It emboldens him and he reaches out to touch Mr. Turtleneck once more but the man turns around at the same time. There’s a bit of fumbling with Charles blushing profusely while the man simply smirks and then they’re both laughing at their

 

          Mr. Turtleneck blessedly extends a hand, his long fingers open invitingly, and introduces himself. “I’m Erik. Who may I have the pleasure of speaking?” He says in that deep rumble of a voice that makes Charles knees weak and dammit, he might as well have been a bumbling teenager.

 

          “Charles.” He returns, giving Erik what he believes is a firm handshake.

 

          Erik’s smirk grows impossibly wider.

 

          Later as he’s purchased his order and is about to begin the semi-short walk home, something he insists on doing as it’s the only exercise he actually enjoys, it starts raining.

 

          And naturally, it would be on the day he forgets his umbrella. The rain that falls from the sky is positively glacial as it drips on his skin and he pulls his tweed jacket as close as it can go while balancing his order in his hand.

 

          At least he has the cappuccino and thoughts of Erik to keep him warm… He stops right there. Hank is kind and good and remembers how he likes his pancakes in the morning. Hank is faithful and sweet. But Erik is… No, Erik is not his. And Charles is not a child, he should know that he should be happy with what he has and not covet things that can never be.

 

          With a deep sigh, he pushes Erik out of his mind.

 

          He is almost around the corner of the block of the coffee shop when the rain decides to really come down. He picks up the pace and is seriously about to break into a sprint when suddenly he feels great warmth behind him and the rain come to a halt.

         

It doesn’t take long for him to realize there’s an umbrella above his head and there’s the rumble of a familiar voice caressing his ear. “You didn’t think I’d honestly let you get away from me, now did you?”

 

          Charles stiffens, blush creeping across his cheeks. He stutters out something that is mainly just unintelligible murmuring. And Erik’s signature smirk is there.

 

          “A man as irresistible as you shouldn’t be walking around all by yourself. The wolves could descend.” And the smile he gives Charles is so lascivious, that it makes any hope of Charles finding his tongue, impossible.

 

          “Where, may I ask, are you heading? My car’s parked somewhere near here, I’d be happy to drop you.”

 

          That is when Charles finds his voice. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t. I live very close and my husband actually is waiting for me.” He plays the husband card—something he utilizes when creeps try to pick him up—Erik seems like the complete opposite of a creep but that doesn’t change the fact that Charles is still married and still off limits.

 

          He’s about to move from under the umbrella when Erik speaks again. “You’re pupils are blown, you’re lips are swollen and you’re hair’s absolutely rumpled. You look simply delectable.” And then a resigned: “You’re husband is a lucky man.”

 

          “Thank you.” Charles says. It should be a little awkward now, but it surprisingly isn’t. He makes no further effort to move away from the umbrella, seeing that Erik hasn’t retracted it in retaliation of being turned down. Though the proper thing to do would be to walk away, Charles finds he can’t. As if he is somehow pulled into Erik’s orbit like a lonely planet drawn in by Erik’s sun.

 

They soon begin to talk again and in their conversation, Charles learns that Erik is CEO of a company that manufactures steel or something to that effect, that Erik is an only child, he’s from Germany originally (explains the undeniably sexy accent)  and that he has never been married. Charles discusses his sister Raven, his job as an office clerk, he’s from England, and his happy life with his husband, Hank.

 

At the mention of Hank, Erik listens raptly. Charles tries to inflect so much happiness and affection in his voice so Erik doesn’t feel as if something’s amiss. He’s not too sure if it’s working.

 

They walk a little further until Erik makes a gesture to a fancy car just a few feet away. And Charles realizes that Erik will have to revoke his umbrella and he will be left in the falling rain, without Erik’s body heat and charming company to make the walk less of a hassle.

 

          Something triggers in him, a dangerous mix of _want_ and _need_ that have him searching his pocket for his business card. He means, to tell Erik that he can call him anytime, if he just wants to talk. His every intention trained on keeping it innocent and platonic. But their fingers brush when he hands him the rectangular card and he feels the desire pool low in his belly.

 

          “You sure you want to walk?” Erik asks, voice all husky and low. And god help him, but Charles just can’t, no won’t say no. And he follows Erik to his car.

* * *

 

For awhile, everything is okay. Erik never asks for more and Charles never offers. They meet up for coffee or lunch with Charles never mentioning it to Hank because he simply never asks.

 

          But soon lunch and coffee meet ups turn into having dinner together in fancy restaurants and their one hour to two hour meetings morph into spending more time with Erik than he does with Hank.

         

          Charles tries to convince himself that it is all innocent. That he doesn’t notice the way Erik looks at him or the lingering touches or the way he studies Charles’ lip when he bites it nervously.

 

          The mounting sexual tension finally comes to a peak when Erik is dropping him home one night after a particularly enjoyable dinner.

 

          “Wait a second, Charles.” He says, gripping Charles arm gently to halt the other man.

 

          “Yes Erik. What is it?” Charles holds his breath. This was all innocent, platonic, good, not cheating…

 

          “I can’t see you go back in there, back to your husband and pretend like I’m not dying to grab you and take you home with me and show you who you really belong to.” Erik states, eyes burning with a need that Charles can only match.

 

          This is when Charles gives up.  Because he can’t be friends with Erik anymore, he was stupid to think that it would work like that, as if he can look at Erik everyday and not imagine all the possibilities, all the things he could have if he just reached out and _touched_.

 

          Everything happens pretty fast after that. They come together in the car, two stars merging into a stellar collision, becoming one, before Erik takes him to his house and makes love to him properly.

 

          And then it becomes hard to quit him. He finds himself making excuses for his actions, that he’s only doing it because Hank ignores him, that it’s Hank’s fault for not being there, he wants to resent Hank for driving him into the arms of another man.

 

          But he can’t totally blame Hank. He has to take some responsibility. He loves Hank or at least he thinks he does, it’s hard to remember when Erik is drilling into him on the kitchen floor.

 

          But it’s just his luck that Hank starts noticing the marks Erik leaves. The excuses become more and more ridiculous but if Hank senses anything, he doesn’t mention it.

 

          On his birthday, Hank really does try. He comes out of the lab and gives him a cake and they attempt to have sex but it’s not Hank’s face he sees when he climaxes, it’s Erik’s.

          Hank accuses him in the early morning hours when Charles is just sneaking home.

 

          “Did you have fun with him today?” Hank asks, sitting in the arm chair by the lamp with a glass of scotch like some horrible cliché.

 

          “Oh Hank, I didn’t think you were up. Work has been—”

 

          “Don’t you fucking dare talk to me about work!” Hank spits. It’s the first time he’s ever talked to Charles like that and Charles can’t help it, he winces.

 

          “You need to sleep, you’re drunk.”

 

          “And you’re a cheater. Don’t play this game with me Charles.” Hank stands up and walks over to him. He presses a hand to the older man’s chest and gives a firm push. “You smell like him.” Hank snarls.

 

          They fight, harsh words are said, and Hank threatens to kick him out or worse, leave him. Charles promises to end the affair and eventually Hank acquiesces.

 

* * *

Hank wants children, he also wants to go on fancy, extravagant vacations with Charles and wants them to grow old and die together.

 

          Charles wants those things too and he does his best not to mess up Hank’s dreams. He is the good husband again; he cooks, cleans, and comes home on time. He tries to make up for his infidelity and to any on lookers; he’s doing a hell of a grand job.

 

          But not everything that glitters is gold. Charles may appear to be cleaning up his act but no one sees it, the way he waits for Hank to fall asleep or return to his lab for days upon days, and then calls Erik. No one sees that they spend their now limited time lost in the throes of passion, both of them unwilling to waste even a second on anything that doesn’t involve being tied together in the most forbidden way.

 

          Charles feels guilty, most times. He doesn’t show it but he does. He knows it’d break Hank’s heart of he ever found out and he knows he’s going to hell.

 

          Hank deserves better, he knows this too but he can’t bring himself to leave so Hank can find a better spouse. He’s selfish in the absolute worst way.

 

          In the end, he does leave Hank. He just can’t keep pretending to be something he’s not. Erik accepts him quite willingly. And that night as they lay in bed together all sated and warm, he realizes he loves Erik.

 

          He tries to be amicable with Hank but Hank is bitter and angry and hates him more than anything. He can’t really blame him.

 

          Erik confesses his love for Charles one night at dinner; it makes the other man stupidly happy and lessens some of the pain. Charles decides that though his love for Erik is foreign and scary, it’s still strong and alive in him and he’s going to do his best to never ruin  Erik’s hopes and dreams and his own chances of finding true happiness. It’s enough for him, perhaps for the rest of his life.

 

         

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked this story. I'm not sure but maybe I'll write more in the future. Peace! :)


End file.
